POSTCARDS from the LINE of DEMARCATION
Points of Separation in Poetic Prose
by Branch Isole
Copyright © 2010
Smashwords Edition
eBook ISBN 978-0983574439
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
Manao Publishing
Hampton, VA 23666
Order copies of this eBook at
www.branchisole.com
Author, Poet and Storyteller Branch Isole observes and comments on the motivations of our world both clothed and bare. Writing of issues and emotions often experienced but not always voiced, his style and presentation cast reflective identity against a backdrop of personal responsibility choice or avoidance. This is ‘Voyeurism Poetry’.
Postcards from the Line of Demarcation contains adult themes and language, some of which is erotic or sexual in nature and presentation. Postcards from the Line of Demarcation is intended for mature audiences.
Voyeurism Poetry ~ looking out, seeing in
“Many write of things known or experienced, I comment on those seen and heard.”
“The only difference between me and my readers is, I wrote it down.”
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Contents
Ainokea
At Long Last My Love
Awareness
Beauty, the Beast
Birthing Partner
Characterless
Children Live What They Learn
and Learn What They See
Comatose
Comes the Gray
Cyber Loss
Days of Endearment
Deadly Sins
Differentials
Expressly
Eye Trolling
Fellowship of Believers Prayer
Grave Situation
Heavy
Hello
How Desperate Am I?
I Don’t Need You God
I Hate You Right Now
If
It’s All Good
Lesson Less
Line Drawings
Loose Change
Lost in You
Magnificent Mind
Mute Blind Spot
New Habit
New Now
One Foot in Front of the Other
Parallel
Plastic Man
Rainbow Ends
Red Robin Hood
Rest in Peace
Restful Season
Sex Sells
Slave to Fashion
Starvation
Synapse Interruptus
Taken In
Task Priorities
Three Year Tour
Time
Tripping
Truth Serves Not Itself
Wave Rider
When In… Jr. High
XXX
Introduction
At various times in our lives we arrive at precipice points whether by requirement or choice and we look over the edge of our existence. When this Line of Demarcation become self evident, we are faced with our mortality, morality and soul filling humanity. How we respond in that moment of decision determines not only who we are, but who we will become in the next moment and in all those to follow.
These fifty two ‘Postcards’ are for those who choose to look beyond the surface images.
Branch Isole
the Voyeuristic Poet
“Real poetry doesn’t say anything. It just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors.”
~Jim Morrison
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Ainokea
God’s spoken words
in declaration of His universal sovereignty
for all to hear and understand
were contained in His statement
“I am who I am”
Satan,
that fallen angel
unable to take
God’s Holy place
was cast to earth
to plague and lead astray
this whole human race
With temptations, deceit, lies
and sin
his job each day
souls to win
Gathering to his side
all who might into the abyss
that they may with him abide
Interesting isn’t it
after all these years
the one who has caused
so many tears
Satan, that old deceiver
has a stronghold grasp
on so many believers
Satan has tried
to be as God from the start
and his success is in
plying man’s heart
Twisting God’s own sovereign words
“I am”
That’s not however
what Satan declares
as he watches and waits
on man’s despair
The devil’s no fool
inviting many
to be drawn to him
and his evil ways
By planting seeds
within the common
woman or man
who truly think
it’s all about them
You see it
over and over again
in our behavior
our actions
our irresponsibility
Multitudes worldwide
openly declare
“It’s all about me”
How has Satan
circumvented his place
and condemned those of us
in this human race
who state daily a plethora
of our self purposed Ainokea?
God exclaimed
“I am, I am”
Satan has taught us
to proudly proclaim
“It’s about me”
“It’s about me”
(I am I am)
(Ainokea [pronounced, Eye No Key Ah]
Hawaiian connotation for
‘It’s all about me’
literal meaning; “I do what I like”
“I do what I want”)
At Long Last My Love
Come my love
let me show you the wonders
Come my love
let the world not asunder,
our love nor our lives
‘neath the clear or the thunder
For my love reaches above
beyond and forever
You I shall love now and then
leaving you never
It is you my love
whom God has sent
It is you my love
for whom I rent
all veils of the world
all decisions
temptations,
I give up them all
for the love of two
Him and you
you and He,
The two of you.
for CC
Awareness
You are
You are not
You want to be
Choices abound
within these three
You’re a cook
a chaplain
a candlestick maker
The number one chief
janitor, tailor or baker
If who you are
is what you do,
with each career change
is there a new you?
Or are you the same
while traversing each new
identity game?
Playing for time
disguised as who you are not,
or who you want to be
If you are not as projected
or as perceived
who is it you are,
not
attempting to be?
If you want to be different
from whom you have been
are,
or are not
That seedling is planted
deep within
In the soul
of every woman and man
Buried beneath layers
of reality’s plan
Waits for each
a nurturing caress
Encouraging us
to be our worst,
our best
Daily,
in the time
each has left
You are
You are not
You want to be
It is up to you
to become aware
to discover, to see
the choices
which abound
within these three
Beauty, the Beast
If I can’t be beauty
permit me be beast
by inking and piercing
my body at least
then I know
you’ll look
you’ll stare,
at me
instead of her
Birthing Partner
Visiting his birthing partner
one last time today
Dressed in her finest
she’s finally gone away
Going home
he was told
Prepared for travel
brave and bold
Or was she?
He stared and wondered
Had she planned at all
for this day,
the day she’d be put
down and under
She never talked of it
Not to his knowledge,
not through grade school
high school or even college
Exclaimed she ‘believed’
That was to be
her last word
on the ‘Son of Man’
Now she’ll be
finding out first hand
Bidding farewell
to his birthing partner
of oh so long ago
Until he too arrives postmortem
he will never know
Characterless
With each lie told
one’s credibility erodes
and that’s how it goes
for the liar
The liar wants us to think
he’s been right to the brink,
to the edge
to the rim
through all thick and thin
Surviving calamity
of biblical scale
fended off malaise
by tooth and nail
Liars hope we’ll share the vision
of their beleaguered state of affairs
Through our eyes
with them we’ll agree
conspiratorially
Believing they escape skepticism
Enmeshed in a myriad of excuses
Listening ears quickly learn
their proffered false words
soon are discerned
Full of hot air
their toxicity runneth over
exuding a stench
from which we take cover
The truth is,
as with Peter and his Wolf
after a while
we simply don’t care
Then wishes for that limerick
of childhood days come true
to see that ‘liar liar
with pants on fire’
Immolation is terrible
and no one enjoys
the burning stake’s flaming pyre
except,
when it happens
to the pathological liar
got a match?